


Hold Me

by SunriseRose1023



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angelic Grace, Community: spn_reversebang, First Blade, Healing, M/M, Mark of Cain, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:19:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6065403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester has been through a lot in his life. Being unknowingly possessed by an angel is just another thing he's had to deal with, but he just can't shake this. And when the angel starts appearing to him, refusing to leave him be, Sam must decide whether to forgive or carry yet another burden. </p>
<p>Written for the 2015 SPN Reversebang on LJ. Art by the ridiculously talented nonexistenz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[Art] Hold Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5777704) by [Nonexistenz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz). 



> I was lucky enough to be able to pinch-hit this awesome piece of art for the SPN 2015 Reversebang! nonexistenz is a new friend of mine, and I'm so glad we got to work together. Hope you like this!
> 
> This is a kind of AU for season 9. Spoiler Alerts for some things, but not others? You'll see what I mean when you read. Just wanted to give a head's up.

[](http://imgur.com/KuTKc3o)

**Hold Me**

He’d convinced Dean to leave him alone, which didn’t really take much. He’d let an angel into Sam without Sam’s permission, so he was ready to give Sam whatever he wanted, and Sam wasn’t about to let that go. He huddled under the covers in his room, stubbornly squeezing his eyes shut.

He’d taken three showers so far, seriously testing out the Bunker’s hot water heating system. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that both an angel and a demon—no, the King of Hell—had been _inside_ him. Sam rolled onto his back, tightening the covers, going still for one moment, then sitting up, throwing the covers back and yanking the gun from under his pillow.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

The angel—Gadreel—stood in front of Sam’s dresser. He had his head tilted slightly, green eyes staring at Sam. Sam pushed the gun forward, speaking sharply.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right now.”  
“Because I am an angel, and shooting me would not do any damage.”

Sam blew out his breath, setting the gun aside.

“Get out.”

Gadreel blinked his eyes, and Sam sneered.

“Did you not hear me?”  
“No, I heard you clearly. You are not well, Sam Winchester.”

Sam rolled his eyes, leaning back against his headboard.

“No shit.”

Gadreel’s eyes narrowed slightly, before he nodded.

“That is a colloquialism.”

Sam widened his eyes, then nodded his head.

“Yeah, it is. I forget how literal you angels can be.”

Sam barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

“No. No, you don’t get to come in here and act all buddy-buddy with me! You were in … and without my permission! Get. Out.”

Gadreel shook his head.

“I am sorry, but I cannot do that.”  
“Why the hell not?”  
“Because I am cold.”

Sam stopped, making a face.

“What?”

Gadreel sighed.

“My … vessel is cold. I do not understand it. It is a very strange sensation.”  
“Why don’t you just … put another jacket on?”  
“No, it is … That will not help. The cold seems to be somewhere deeper.”

Sam went still, swallowing hard.

“In—in your bones? Or your vessel’s bones.”

Gadreel nodded, and Sam closed his eyes.

“Crap.”

Gadreel moved his head, then smiled.

“Another colloquialism.”  
“Just assume everything is a colloquialism, okay?”

Sam dragged his hands over his face and into his hair.

“I think we’ve got some kind of bond or something between us. Did you leave some grace behind or something?”  
“I do not believe so.”

Sam blew out his breath, clenching his teeth together.

“Samuel, if I may offer a suggestion—“  
“No. I don’t want to hear _anything_ you have to say.”

Gadreel stopped, nodding his head. Sam watched him, feeling something in his heart. It wasn’t pain; it couldn’t be, not when this angel had basically hijacked him and done things that Sam can’t even think about. 

But the look on the angel’s face …

Sam cleared his throat, then let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for that to sound as rude as it did.”  
“You have every right to be as rude as you please to me.”

Sam couldn’t help the smile.

“You’re right. You used me for … I don’t even know what all for, and frankly, I don’t want to know.”

Gadreel stared at the ground, and Sam put a hand over his eyes.

“Why are you still here?”

Gadreel was quiet for a moment, then spoke softly.

“I am still cold. It is … rather uncomfortable.”  
“And what do you think I can do about it?”  
“I believe we might could help each other.”

Sam realized what the angel was proposing, and he let out a laugh.

“I don’t think so. I’ll just deal with the cold.”  
“You will not be able to sleep. You have been trying to sleep in here for hours.”  
“You spying on me now?”

Gadreel sighed. 

“The least I can do is help you get some sleep.”  
“And, you think the best way to do that is to, what, hold me?”

Gadreel all but nodded, and Sam pushed his hands through his hair. He looked into the green eyes across the room from him and all Sam could think about was Kevin. He shook his head.

“You used me to kill my friend. My hand touched him and burned out his eyes. I will never be able to look at you and not think of that. Get the hell away from me.”

Gadreel’s face fell, and he nodded, then disappeared from the room. Sam closed his eyes, blowing out a breath, then rolled over, pulling the covers tightly around him and shivering.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Sam yawned widely, fumbling for his now ever-present mug of coffee. He rubbed a hand over his face, jumping slightly when he saw his brother standing before him.

“Morning.”  
“Did you ever go to sleep last night?”

Sam yawned, shaking his head.

“We’ve got bigger things to worry about.”  
“Sam—“  
“I might have found a lead on how to kill Abaddon.”

Dean sighed, and Sam drained his coffee.

“Sam, killing anybody’s not going to happen if you don’t get some rest.”  
“I’m fine, Dean. I’ve got to catch up from when I had an angel hijack my body, you know?”

Dean bit his tongue, and Sam pushed his mug across the table.

“Will you get me some more coffee? If this lead fizzles out, there’s a definite haunting happening up in Missouri.”

Dean nodded, taking hold of the mug and walking towards the kitchen, stopping at the door and turning back, watching Sam yawn widely and blink wide eyes at the screen in front of him. Dean sighed, shaking his head and went to refill the coffee.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Sam laughed when he stepped into his room from the bathroom and saw Gadreel standing there. He shook his head, walking over to sit on the bed.

“It’s been a week since I ejected you. You going to come visit every night?”  
“I cannot explain it. I feel a pull towards you, Samuel. It’s the reason I answered your brother’s prayer all those months ago.”  
“Let’s not get into that right now, okay?”

Sam stretched his arms out and yawned widely. Gadreel blew out a breath, then took a step forward.

“You are exhausted.”  
“I’m fine.”  
“You are running yourself into the ground, I believe is the saying.”

Sam looked over, meeting the angel’s eyes.

“Why do you care?”

Green eyes widened, before Gadreel licked his lips.

“Contrary to what you may believe, I do care about you, Sam.”  
“So taking over my body without my permission is showing that you care? I’d hate to see what happens if you hate someone.”

Gadreel had a smile on his face, but it seemed to be full of pain. He took a deep breath, looking back to Sam.

“I did not fully understand the consequences of my actions. If I had … perhaps things could have turned out a little differently.”

He shook his head.

“I can stand here and say how filled with sorrow I am over what I did—what I used you to do—but I know it would not do any good. You would not believe me.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, and Gadreel went on.

“You have made up your mind about me, Sam Winchester, and there is nothing I can do to change that. But I am certainly willing to try.”

Sam watched as Gadreel walked over, sat down on the bed beside him and reached out a hand. Sam flinched away from it, catching the look of sorrow that filled the angel’s green eyes, before he steeled himself and gently rested his hand against Sam’s back. Sam took in a breath, then let it out slowly.

He didn’t understand why the angel’s touch was suddenly so soothing. After all the months together—without Sam’s knowledge, of course—and the harsh realization of what had occurred, Sam expected to be repulsed by Gadreel, and he’d almost managed to convince himself that he was. But now, having the gentle touch rub between his shoulders…

Sam moved to lay on his side, biting his tongue when Gadreel laid down beside him. Sam’s eyes felt so heavy, and he wanted to fight to stay awake, but with the weight of the angel’s hand on his bicep, he couldn’t. His eyes slid closed, and after a deep inhale, Sam fell asleep. 

The next morning, Sam woke up alone, and couldn’t help but raise his hand to his arm as he looked around the empty room.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Every night after that, Gadreel would come to Sam when he was getting ready for bed. He didn’t show when Sam went on a hunt with Dean, and Sam didn’t want to admit it, but without Gadreel, he slept like crap.

Sam sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for the angel to appear. He stared at his hands, tongue darting out to wet his lips every so often. He sighed, turning to pick at the fuzz on his comforter, lifting his eyes when a gentle breeze blew through the room.

“What is wrong?”

Sam blinked.

“What?”  
“You are calling out to me, Samuel.”

Sam blinked again, then shook his head.

“No, I …”

He sighed.

“I didn’t realize I was.”  
“You can do it anytime you like. I do not mind.”

Sam nodded, then turned to face the angel.

“We need to talk.”

Gadreel nodded, walking over to sit on the bed beside Sam. Sam turned to face him, pulling a knee up on the bed. He took in a breath, then let it out slowly.

“I’ve been … researching you.”

Gadreel’s eyebrows came together, and Sam spoke softly.

“Everything the Men of Letters had on you.”

Gadreel ‘s face seemed to light with realization, and he slowly nodded.

“Then you know.”

Sam nodded.

“You really let the serpent into the Garden?”

Gadreel winced like he was in pain, then stood to his feet.

“It isn’t as simple as everyone tries to make it out to be. It isn’t like Lucifer himself walked up to me and said ‘Let me in,’ and I stepped aside. I didn’t realize who it was. I did not know—“  
“Hey, hey.”

Sam stood up, laying his hands on Gadreel’s shoulders, squeezing gently until the angel looked up, pain-filled green eyes meeting Sam’s.

“I get it.”  
“Samuel, you don’t—“  
“I do. If anyone knows how … how charming Lucifer can be, it’s me.”

Gadreel seemed to be studying Sam’s face, so he smiled.

“I am his vessel, after all.”

Gadreel nodded.

“You … you understand?”

Sam nodded. Gadreel nodded back slowly, then blew out his breath.

“But it—it’s all my fault. He would never have needed a vessel if I’d just realized. If I hadn’t let him in—“  
“Someone else would have.”

Gadreel let out a harsh laugh.

“I do not believe that.”  
“I do.”

Gadreel shook his head.

“No, I—I should have known. I was imprisoned for millennia for my mistake, and when the angels fell, I … I thought maybe I could finally have my penance. I could find a way to make up for what I had done. And instead, I …”

He laughed.

“I manage to do the exact same thing.”

Gadreel sat on Sam’s bed, pushing his hands over his hair. Sam sighed, sitting down beside him. He bit his lip, then laid a hand on Gadreel’s knee. 

“I think you’ve paid for your sins, Gad. And you … you had good intentions.”  
“What is that saying, Samuel? Which road is it that is paved with good intentions? I do not believe it is the one back home.”

Sam smiled, turning his head to see the angel smiling back at him. Gadreel sighed.

“I suppose I am … how do they put it? ‘An easy target?’ First Lucifer, then Metatron.”

He shook his head, and Sam sighed. Gadreel turned to face him, smiling softly.

“Are you ready for bed?”  
“Not really. I don’t … I feel like we should talk some more.”

Gadreel looked down, and Sam reached to gently lift his chin.

“We don’t have to talk about that. Something … something else.”  
“Why don’t you talk, and I can listen?”

Sam smiled, reaching over to lace his fingers with the angel’s. Gadreel smiled, nodding.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What do you know about the Mark of Cain?”

Gadreel sighed, reaching a hand up to push through Sam’s hair. Sam was lying right beside the angel, with his head on Gadreel’s wide chest. Sam flicked his eyes up to see green eyes looking back at him. Gadreel shook his head slightly.

“Nothing good, I’m afraid. My knowledge is severely limited on that specific subject, however. I can only tell you what I heard.”

Sam nodded.

“Dean took it.”  
“Dean has the Mark of Cain?”

Sam nodded, and Gadreel gently tightened his hold.

“Oh, Sam…”

Sam closed his eyes, turning his face towards the angel, and Gadreel closed his eyes as he held him.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“You really believe we three will be enough?”

Sam looked from Castiel to Dean, who smiled.

“We always have been.”

Sam smiled, nodding his head. He glanced over, sitting up straight when he saw who had just walked into the room. Dean and Castiel jumped to their feet, and Gadreel held up his hands.

“I’m not here to fight. Something has to be done. Metatron, he … he needs to be stopped.”

Sam stood to his feet, eyes locked on the green-eyed angel, who gave him a soft smile and a nod. Dean shook his head, arms crossed over his chest.

“And we should trust you why?”

Gadreel sighed.

“I know I have given you no reason to trust me. I know that I have made mistakes, but … but haven’t we all?”

Dean glanced to Castiel, then to Sam. Gadreel went on.

“I can give him to you. Metatron. I know everything. Give … Give me a chance. Please.”

Sam licked his lips, giving Gadreel a smile. Dean sighed, looking back to his brother, and Sam nodded to him. Dean hung his head, then met the angel’s eyes. After a long minute, Dean extended his hand. Sam let out a breath of relief and Gadreel smiled, reaching to put his hand in Dean’s. 

Sam stood back, watching in horror as things suddenly turned to slow-motion. Dean moved suddenly, First Blade in hand, and sliced it across Gadreel’s chest. Gadreel fell backwards, the deep cut on his chest leaking a blue light, which Sam was terrified might be his grace. Castiel jumped, grabbing Dean and pushing him backwards, and Sam ran forward, hitting his knees beside Gadreel, who was panting and grimacing in pain.

“No, no, no. Hang on. Just hold on, Gad, okay? Breathe. Try and breathe.”  
“Sa—Sam.”  
“Shh. Don’t talk. Just hang on.”

Gadreel winced and bit down on a moan and Castiel walked over, kneeling beside Sam. Sam shook his head.

“Go to Dean.”  
“Sam—“  
“Cas, go!”

Castiel laid two fingers against both Sam and Gadreel’s foreheads, and they appeared in Sam’s bedroom. Sam looked up, just in time to meet Castiel’s eyes before the angel disappeared. Sam let out a breath, looking down at the angel writhing on his bed. 

“Gad, hey. Hey, talk to me.”  
“Sam, I—“

Gadreel moaned, reaching out and grabbing onto Sam’s hip. Sam nodded, reaching down and patting the angel’s hand.

“I’ve got you. Hang on, okay? I’ll be right back. Hold on.”

Sam ran into the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit, running back to his room. He reached down and ripped Gadreel’s shirt open, sucking in a breath when he saw the gash.

“You’re going to be okay. Do you hear me, Gad? You’ll be all right.”  
“Samuel, I … I’m sorry—“  
“Don’t. Don’t apologize.”

Sam lifted a cloth and gently wiped the blood dripping from the cut across Gadreel’s chest. He grabbed a needle and thread, preparing to stitch up the gash, when a shaky hand lifted to lay over his. Sam looked at Gadreel, who smiled softly at him.

“I’m … I’m okay, Sam. Do not cry.”

Sam blinked, realizing then that tears were dripping down his face. Sam sniffled, moving his wrist under his nose. He shook his head, then leaned down, gently pressing his lips to the angel’s. Gadreel kissed him back, softly and tenderly, lifting a shaking hand to brush through Sam’s hair. Sam broke the kiss, leaning back to rest his forehead on Gadreel’s.

“This is going to hurt. I’m sorry.”  
“Just do it. I’ll be fine.”  
“Try and hold still for me.”

Gadreel winced as the needle pierced his skin and the thread pulled the wound closed. He never moved a muscle, except for his face. Sam was quick and efficient with his stitches, thanks to years of practice, and soon, he was snipping the thread after the last stitch. Gadreel let out a breath of relief, and Sam laid a bandage over his chest, taping the edges. When the last piece was taped down, Sam looked up, meeting the angel’s eyes.

“Thank you, Sam.”

Tears filled Sam’s eyes again, and he laid his forehead just beside the wound. He sat up, moving to cup Gadreel’s cheek in one hand, fusing their lips together again. Gadreel’s hand came to rest in Sam’s hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands. Sam moved back, resting his forehead against the angel’s again, shaking his head.

“I was so … God, Gad. That scared me so bad.”  
“I know, Sam. I could feel it.”  
“Don’t … don’t ever do that again, okay?”  
“I will try my best.”  
“I don’t—“

Sam cleared his throat, shaking his head. Gadreel moved to press his lips to Sam’s again, and this time, they fell asleep with the roles reversed, Gadreel resting against the pillows while Sam held him close.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

They were on the floor, Sam all but in Gadreel’s lap. The tears hadn’t stopped—not since Sam had heard Dean’s last words.

_“I’m proud of us.”_

Summoning Crowley hadn’t worked. Castiel was God knows where. Dean’s body was in his room, as lifeless as it had been when Sam carried it in there hours ago.

But Gadreel was there.

Gadreel had backed out of accompanying Cas back to Heaven, choosing instead to slink in the shadows and watch over Sam. He’d gotten distracted, and could only watch in horror as Metatron slid his angel blade into Dean’s chest. He’d tried to help, but the damage was too great. Dean had died anyway, and Gadreel was at a complete loss. 

So, he did the only thing he knew to do.

He held Sam.

They sat on the floor in Sam’s room for what seemed like hours, until Gadreel could coax the man into the bed. Sam clung to him, burying his face in Gadreel’s chest, unzipping his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt until he could stare at the faint scar Dean had given the angel. He traced it with his finger until Gadreel reached down and grabbed it, bringing the finger to his lips and kissing it before leaning to kiss Sam again. 

“I don’t know what to do.”

Gadreel sighed, pushing his fingers through Sam’s hair.

“I know, Sam.”  
“Thank you for being here.”  
“There is nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Sam sighed, pressing his face to Gadreel’s neck.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Dean was gone.

Sam had nearly lost his mind when he found the note, and Gadreel had been his anchor. They discovered that Dean was with Crowley, and not entirely himself, and Sam had nearly lost his mind. Instead, Gadreel had stayed by his side, never straying more than a room away, holding Sam close when he needed it, giving him his distance when he didn’t. 

They were outside, having a few beers—well, Sam was having a few beers. Gadreel was watching. Sam tossed his empty can aside and walked over. Gadreel smiled, standing to his feet, and Sam closed the distance between them. Gadreel rested his head against Sam’s shoulder, letting out a breath and closing his eyes. Sam let out a breath of his own, smiling softly. 

Holding Gadreel in his arms was just right, like a missing piece finally slotting into place. Sure, his life was shit at the moment, and he could only imagine what they’d have to endure to have Dean back, but that could wait until tomorrow. Right then, standing with the man he was honestly falling in love with was a feeling Sam thought he may never have. Holding the angel, having him so near, hugging him, pressed close, leaning on him, trusting him… Being held in return … For Sam, it felt perfect. Like they were made for each other.

Like he’d finally found his home.

[](http://imgur.com/VlX3QJR)


End file.
